


Diadem

by scrapbullet



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapbullet/pseuds/scrapbullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hush,” Azazel says, his breath hot against her most intimate parts. “Calm, liubóv' moýa.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diadem

There’s a certain vulnerability to this; legs hitched wide to accommodate the significant width of Azazel’s shoulders. His palms are a secure weight on her hips, dwarfing them, and when she becomes nervous, back straining and skin flushing a deep purple, his fingers deftly pet the sensitive scales, teasing her into submission.

“Hush,” Azazel says, his breath hot against her most intimate parts. “Calm, liubóv' moýa.”

Raven settles, albeit warily. The tension in her body is obvious, though he takes it slow, parting her folds and licking a thick stripe up to the cleft. It begets an ache and a rush of wetness, one amplified by his questing tongue and clever fingers, teasing back and forth over the open entrance, spreading the slick.

Her thighs instinctively close, locking him in. “Don’t-”

“You’re ashamed, da? Don’t be.” The answering rumble is as soothing as the one before it; pausing, letting the pad of his thumb press inside of her, drawing gently away when she whimpers. Azazel hums, savouring the flavour of her on his fingers. “Your taste is divine.”

Raven averts her eyes, unwilling to admit that the sight arouses her, cunt throbbing.

Silence, and Azazel returns to his task with enthusiastic fervour. Palming her thigh he angles Raven’s hips up, just enough, twisting a finger inside and pumping it, arching it just so; watching her bite her lip with animalistic intent. A quick jerk and she shudders, a second digit and she arcs like a wave, fucking back onto him.

His laughter is muted against her skin. Raven tugs on his hair for good measure, muttering, “hurry up and get me off,” imperious like a magnificent queen, skin flushed and mouth dry.

The heat rises, spreads outwards. His tongue laps at the folds of her, makes her soaked, makes her keen. It’s a sweetness she can’t deny as sweat pools on her skin, as Azazel sucks her swollen clit into his mouth and pulls back, letting her flesh fall from his lips with a wet smack, his fingers slowing to a gentle, smooth glide.

“As your majesty desires.”

It comes to her with no warning. The pleasure is a gorgeous decline one second and far too much the next, crying out as she contracts and tremble within. Azazel guides her through it, flicking his tongue against her, pushing her onwards, upwards, until her gasping moans become breathless and the ache utterly unbearable; cresting once and then once again as he refuses to cease, crushing her against his amorous mouth.

When he finally pulls away his lips are slick with her fluids. He licks them, blatantly approving, and drags a knuckle down her oversensitive cunt, smirking like only a satisfied male can.

“Alright, alright,” Raven murmurs, chest heaving. She can’t quite seem to get her breath back, and the afterglow leaves her pliant, soft-limbed and drowsy eyed. “Maybe you _can_ make me come in less than thirty minutes.”

Azazel nuzzles her throat, tail winding around the supple roundness of her thigh. He murmurs something endearing in Russian, and though she knows not the meaning of his words, his tone is enough.


End file.
